Your Heart's Locked Doors
by Crying Diamonds
Summary: Ina Middleton feels as though she doesn't belong. She looks nothing like her father and she knows her mother is hiding something from her. When she goes to Spence in search of her history, her mother's story unfolds, leaving her more confused than ever.
1. Chapter One

Chapter One

I looked into my mother's piercingly green eyes and saw the lies hidden inside the dark circles around her irises. Narrowing my own identical eyes I stared ruthlessly back at her, determined to find the truth in the elegant curves of her face. She blinked, looked away, and I felt the pressure from her eyes leave me immediately. "Ina, go find Daddy." She said dismissively. "No. I want answers." My mother shook her head; making her flaming curls swing about frenziedly. "There is nothing you need to know. You'll forget about it in no time, pet." I stamped my foot and stubbornly refused to leave. "I know you're hiding something from me. I won't leave until you tell me why you're lying to your own daughter." "Ina, sweetheart, there are some things you don't need to know. Some things better off left alone. Some locked doors are best left alone. My mother did the same thing. Oh, how I wish she were here." My beautiful mother gazes around our sitting room, taking in the lovely paintings and expensive furniture. "There is nothing I want more than to tell you, dear, but I'm afraid it would be too much for you to handle. Now go and find Daddy. He's in his study. I'm sure he'd love to see you, Ina." Defeated and bitter, I relent and stomp off towards my father's study shouting a threat back over my shoulder that she can't ignore. "In three months I turn sixteen and then I'm going to Spence. We'll see how much you'll be able to hide from me then!" I just have time to see the look on my mother's face, disconcertion mixed with a little of something else… something unfamiliar and hard that I haven't seen in her eyes before. And then the door slams behind me and I am running up to father's study in search of a sympathetic friend.

My father puts down his book when I enter and turns his beaming smile on me. It's the warmest smile I've ever seen and it catches me completely off guard. I smile back timidly and walk to the front of his desk. He puts his laced fingers upon the hard, sleek wood and stares at me over the rims of his reading glasses. "Well, Ina, what can I do for you?" He speaks to me as if I am an adult, not like mother who always treats me like a petulant four-year-old instead of a fifteen-year-old. "Good evening, father." I say formally. It's our little game; we treat each other as if we are coworkers. He laughs, his eyes crinkling up at the corners, and stares at me with his deep, blue eyes so different from my mother's and mine. The nameplate on his desk said Mr. Simon Middleton. I sighed, making myself sit in the chair across from him and ask him the question I need to know the answer to. "Daddy," I said, my voice uncharacteristically soft. The word sounded strange on my lips, as though it didn't belong there anymore. "Why won't mother let me go to Spence?" My father sighed contemplatively. "Well, darling, I think it's because of what happened to her there." My flaming curiosity has been lit and I lean in closer, wanting more. "What happened?" Father sighed again. He does that a lot lately. "One of her very good friends died there. She hates talking about it." What? I've never heard about this! Why wouldn't my mother tell me something this important? "What friend?" Father shakes his head sadly. "I don't know. Something with a 'P'. Apparently it was quite a tragedy." He looks at me sternly as I digest this piece of news. "Look, Ina, I don't want you interrogating your mother about this alright? She's got enough on her plate without you bothering her." I nod vaguely, knowing this isn't the only reason and that both my parents are hiding something very crucial from me. "It's not fair." I say childishly. I know I'm whining but I can't make myself stop. "I know, Ina. Just… let your mother think about it for a while, deary." I look at his pale skin, so unlike my olive complexion and feel, not for the first time, that we are somehow unconnected. Not like a father and his daughter should be. The familiar twisting feeling knots up the inside of my stomach and I rise quickly, wishing to be out of the danger zone. "Thank you, father." I say, briskly, and I step hurriedly from the room.

In the hall, I lean against the polished oak door and breath deeply. It's not the first time I've noticed the differences between my parents and I. For one thing, I have darker hair than either of them. It's curly, exactly like my mothers, only it's almost black as opposed to my mother's fiery hair and my father's chestnut. The other noticeable difference is my skin. It's dark, as I said before, but not so dark that I could be mistaken for African or Oriental, just dark enough for me to have a dark tan. The other differences cannot be seen as much, like my slight, cat-like frame. Neither my mother nor my father is built like that. Maybe I've imagined it but I think they are hiding something from me. Something that makes my grandfather smile at me sadly and look sternly at my mother. Something that makes my ancient great grandmother who defies death with a stony glance look away from me with an expression of disdain on her wizened, crinkled, paper face. I look at pictures of my grandmother and I see her piercingly green eyes and her beautiful red hair and porcelain skin. I know I am different, and that is why I must go to Spence. My history lies there somewhere, I know it, and Mother wishes for me to ignore my history and go on living my life without knowing who I really am. I've contemplated confronting my mother, but I am not that cruel. I couldn't put her under that amount of direct pressure. Not when she is already so fragile.

No. There is only one solution to my problem; Spence. Without Spence I know nothing, without Spence I am denied knowledge and denied myself. I don't want to go, I need to go. And nothing is going to stop me ever again. I will get to that finishing school if it kills me. But I won't die until I have learned the truth so even that option isn't open to me. And so I edit my statement; I _will_ get to that finishing school.

Chapter Two

Two months later, as I get into the coach with my stony faced mother, I feel only the tiniest twinge of guilt. There is no reason I should be denied the opportunity to go to Spence. Every other girl is going, and even if my reasons are different from theirs, mine are good reasons nonetheless. "I hope you're happy now, Ina." I smile smugly, knowing I've won. "I _am. _Are you?" I know the answer; she doesn't have to answer me with her piercing stare as she does now. It isn't fair how much she can do with those green eyes. People call them beautiful, powerful, entrancing. What do they call mine? Spooky, creepy and unnatural. Well, that's how it will always be with me I guess. I will always be different from mother, no matter how hard I try. I can't help thinking that the reason we don't get along is all the secrets she has to hide from me. And I can't help but thinking that if I found out all her secrets then our relationship would be much better, much more like a mother daughter relationship.

The coach jerks slightly and mother jumps. I look at her, amazed, as I see that hard look come into her eyes that I've only seen once before. And suddenly, I realize that the look is one of sheer terror. Disconcerted, I look out of my window just in time to see that we are passing through the poor part of town. I've never seen this part of London before and it intrigues me. I can't help but stare as we pass starving children with torn clothes and dirty faces. "Mother, why do they have to live like that? Can't someone give them money so they can have better lives?" The question is out of my mouth before I can stop it. Stupid, stupid Ina! How could you ask such a question? Dear god, I always forget that we are the richest family I know. I might as well ask my father why he doesn't give food and shelter to homeless children. "Ina, must you bring up such distasteful subjects?" My mother raises her arched eyebrows and I feel as if I shall sink through the upholstered seat right onto the muddy ground. _Sorry I asked. Next time I'll just come out and say that we are greedy and horrible. That would make for much more pleasant conversation, wouldn't it Mother? _Why must she be so proper? She can't have been that way all her life. She must have laughed once or twice in her life.

I slip into silence as we rumble into dense forest and the coach is shrouded in dappled darkness. I can't wait to get there. My whole life is ahead of me, my entire history is ahead of me, the reason why most of me looks nothing like my parents is just a few miles into this freckled-with-light darkness. "About ten more minutes, Miss." The driver Calls down to us, and my mother smiles and nods her assent. I sigh loudly, hoping to draw her attention, but I get nothing but a cold glance for of my horse-like efforts. After three or four minutes my mother starts looking impatiently out of the window, as if she's expecting something. She cranes her neck, searching for something I can only imagine, and after a few more minutes a smile lights up her beautiful face like a sunbeam. "Ina, look!" She's so excited all of a sudden that I have to look. And I see the pillars, the high turrets, the fanged gargoyles and the menacing oak doors of Spence. "It's not how I pictured it… It's a lot more menacing than I thought it would be." Mother smiled fondly at the school, her eyes full of memory. "Oh yes…" She said, her voice soft. "It's absolutely terrifying when you first see it. Dear old Spence." She laughs to herself and calls to the driver, "Can't you hurry a little bit?" I've never seen my mother like this. She's like a child going on holiday, and I like her better this way. She seems so genuinely happy to be back. I can't imagine why she didn't want me to come here. And then the coach rumbles to a stop and she jumps quickly out. "Come on Ina! Oh my. It's been too long." I scramble out, following her as quickly as I could and stumbling awkwardly as my boots hit the gravel. "Wait for me!" I say with a whine. "It is me who's going, isn't it?" But mother isn't listening to me; She's rushing up to the door, her skirts trailing behind her, unable to keep up with her sudden rush.

"Gemma?" My mother freezes, her back going rigid, and turns to face the heavily accented voice. I turn too and see a colorfully clothed man coming out of the forest behind us. He has a dark blue kerchief around his neck. His skin is olive colored and his hair is such a dark brown that it's almost black in the fading sunlight. Mother breathes slowly and shakes her head as if trying to shake off a memory. Then she whispers a name so low it's almost silent. "Kartik…" The man looks just as stunned as she does. His hand is frozen in mid air as if he had been about to brush his hair out of his dark, dramatic eyes. I look from him to my mother, my eyes searching for something, anything. It's no use; I can't see a single thing that they might have in common. How does she know him? How does he know her? What am I missing? What other secrets must I now reveal? "I had no idea you were coming." He says. His voice is beautiful, heavy and rich. He blinks slowly, his long, thick lashes brushing his cheeks for an instant, and then his eyes pull away from hers and turn to me. His face goes blank, his mouth opens slightly and a whisper escapes that catches in the breeze and is carried away so that I can almost think I've imagined it. The intensity of his stare is too much. I peal my eyes away and stare down at my boring, brown shoes. It's terrifying, the recognition lodged in his large, chocolate eyes. "Oh god." He says quietly, his hand falling limply to his side. "I was just dropping Ina of here." Says my mother. Her voice is trembling with some restrained emotion. The man's eyes are still scrutinizing me. I squirm as I feel his gaze puncture my skin. "Ina…" He whispers into the wind, his velvet voice floating through me as if he had touched me. "Yes." Says mother; her voice still shocked and disconcerted. "Ina, this is Kartik… a… a friend of mine." I'm not sure what to say. This man is obviously a gypsy, and yet he knows my mother. Apparently, he knows me too by the way he is looking at me. "Pleased to meet you." I say politely. Kartik says nothing to me. He looks at mother. "Does she know?" He says quietly. Know what? What do I know? What do I not know? "No." says mother softly. "I'm sorry, Kartik." I'm not sure what she's apologizing about, my not knowing, or her words to come. "We have an appointment." The man nods slowly and looks at me with a soft but penetrating look. For a moment, a think I see him smile at me. His eyes are definitely kind. "Of course." He says. "I won't keep you." And then he disappears into the woods with a flash of dark blue against the twilight. I turn to my mother, ready to interrogate her or get mad at her, only to see her sink to the ground and burst into anguished sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Three

"Mother?" I said, shocked by the sudden amount of tears on her face.

"I'm sorry, dear." She sobbed, wiping at her eyes and forcing a smile onto her face that I could tell she didn't mean. "Darling, would you mind not mentioning this to your father?" I nodded, still stunned.

"Thank you, Ina. You don't know how much this means to me."

"Uh… Should we go inside?"

"Oh! I'm so sorry. Yes, let's go." And she jumped to her feet, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes and taking a deep breath. She smiled reassuringly at me, her face giving away no evidence at all that she had just been crying.

"Are you alright?" I asked, unsure of how to react to her outburst.

"Yes, dear. I'm fine, thank you." She smiled again and this time it convinced me. I nodded and walked up the steps to stand beside her. She tossed her curls away from her face, took another thought collecting breath, and banged the knocker down on the oak door. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye and saw her looking straight ahead, determined as ever. I sighed and looked back at the door just in time to see it open and a rather old lady appear. My mother grinned delightedly and greeted the woman.

"Bridget! You're still here! I'm so glad."

"Why, if it aint Ms. Gemma!" said the old lady, smiling at my mother in a crinkly way that was slightly terrifying.

"And who's this?" She said, looking at me quizzically.

"Ah, yes. Bridget, this is my daughter, Ina. Ina, say hello to Bridget. She's worked here ever since I was at school." My mother beamed at Bridget, although only I noticed that her green eyes were filled with worry.

"Pleased to meet you, Bridget." I said, smilingly.

"Ina… Humph. Well, I guess I'd better get you up to Mrs. Nightwing."

"Oh, yes. Tell her Gemma says hello."

"Ya can't stay?" Said Bridget, obviously annoyed by this fact.

"Sadly, no. I must get home." She gave Bridget an apologetic look and then turned to me. "Ina, dear, Have a good time. Write me often, alright?" She bent down, swept the hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead.

"I will, Mother. Goodbye."

"Bye, darling." And then with one last smile she turned and walked down the steps to the cab.

"Alright then, child. Let's go." Bridget grumbled, as she turned towards a large staircase. I followed her, having no wish to stay in the dark entrance hall alone.

We walked in complete silence, save the painful squeaking of my boots on the hard wood floor. When we reached the top of the staircase, we turned left, past pictures of girls looking solemn in their black and white frames. I stopped to look at one in particular although I don't know why it drew my attention. Maybe it was because, unlike the others, it had no date on it. Maybe it was because it was the only one framed with a slightly fancier frame, as if it were from somewhere else. But no matter the reason, I stopped to look at it, staring into the apathetic faces of the girls their, trailing my finger across the names. Then my finger stopped at a girl with tumbled curls and freckled skin. I read the name below and smiled, saying it quietly in my head, _Gemma Doyle._

"You comin' or not?" Bridget's voice echoed through my hazy mind and registered there, making me turn away from the picture of my mother and run after her, passing a huge oil painting of a lady with silver hair who looked severely down at me as if I were doing something wrong. I hurried on, hoping that whoever that was, she didn't work here anymore.

Bridget stopped at a tall door and raised her meaty fist to bang on it twice. I felt the sudden urge to laugh, it was all so prim and proper, but I restrained myself with difficulty.

"Come in." said a sharp voice I was not likely to forget any time soon. We entered and I found myself in a large study, fitted with a tall bookcase and a handsome desk behind which was seated a straight-backed woman who looked about as old as Bridget and just as welcoming.

"Here ya go. Gemma couldn't stay, but she sends her greetin's."

"Thank you, Bridget. That will be all." Bridget nodded and turned around, walking swiftly out of the room as if she had things to do.

"I am Mrs. Nightwing, Headmistress of this school."

"Yes mam. Uh… I'm Ina Middleton, mam."

"I know you are." Said Mrs. Nightwing coolly. What did I do to deserve this chilly reception? Or is she like this with everyone? My thoughts were pierced by her sharp voice coming through. The clock ticked slowly, I was sure it was going at this speed just to torture me.

"You will be sharing a room with Pippa Edwards. She is a lovely girl; she has been going here for about four years now. She will show you around, teach you the rules, help you with any lessons you do not already know."

"Yes mam."

_Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock._

"I want you to know that while you are here, you are a part of our family. A family that has rules, rewards and punishments, Miss Middleton."

"Yes mam."

"I also want you to know that we do not tolerate any class division here. Girls of lower classes should not be ridiculed or teased. Is that understood?"

_Perfectly, Mrs. Nightwing. Everything is understood now_. The meaning behind my cold greeting sunk in, making me feel slightly sick. _They think I'm a snob. Well, of course they do. Both my mother and father are very rich. _

"Miss Middleton?"

"Oh… Yes mam. Everything is understood."

"Good… You will of course wear the same uniform everyone else does."

"Yes mam."

"And I think that your room will be quite satisfactory."

"Yes mam."

"The view is quite a good one. You can see the entire countryside."

"Yes mam."

"Do you have any questions?"

"Yes mam. I- I mean no mam."

All of a sudden, I heard a sound like a pig that has just been dunked in freezing water. I looked up, alarmed, only to find Mrs. Nightwing clutching her sides laughing.

"M-Mrs. Nightwing?" I said, shocked.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Middleton. You're just so much like your mother."

"Oh…" I said, confused, "Thank you, Mam."

Mrs. Nightwing dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief she pulled from her pocket and then waved at me with a hand, dismissing me.

"You may go now." She said, still laughing hysterically. I jumped up from my chair and walked out of the room without a backward glance although even when I was outside I could hear her laughter through the thick door. Bridget popped out of the darkness, nearly giving me a heart attack, and gestured for me to follow her.

As we walked along the corridors, I noticed a grandfather clock standing tall by the staircase we had come up earlier. I glanced at the time, ten minutes to six, and then rushed after Bridget, not wanting to get left behind. We walked along a hall full of doors and turned right, right, left, and then right again. Finally we stopped outside a plain looking door with a brass handle that Bridget grabbed unceremoniously, and twirled quickly.

The room I entered could not have been lovelier. It had two neat beds, one with just sheet and the other with a down blanket that I wanted to squish very badly. There were two large windows, which I rushed to, wanting to see the view that Mrs. Nightwing had told me about. It was breathtaking. I could see across rolling pools of emerald leaves and swirling branches all the way back to a small chapel, set high on top of a hill out of one. And when I looked out the other one I could see blue and purple mountains striking the deep sky in the distance. Happily, I threw myself onto my bed and looked around myself at the pretty room. There were daffodils in a vase on a neat desk and a lovely dress hanging over the back of the chair at that desk.

"This is wonderful." I said aloud, filled to the brim with dancing happiness. Just then, the door opened and a girl walked through, her skirts swirling about her toes fast as if she had just been running. She stopped when she saw me, her white blond hair tumbling over her shoulders, wild, sleek and shining.

"Hello." She said, looking me over with large, gray eyes. Her skin was so pale it was almost see through, and there was an air of pride in the way she tilted her chin back. Her eyebrows were arched, her mouth dramatic, her figure feminine but powerful, making her look as if she could rip me in two and be given chocolates by an admirer at the same time.

"I'm Pippa Edwards. Who are you?" She spoke swiftly, as if she was in a great hurry, and her smoky voice made her seem authoritative.

"Ina Middleton. I just started here. I guess we're roommate."

"I suppose so." Said Pippa, her white gold head bobbing up and down in agreement. She looked me over, taking in my hair, face, clothes. Then She smiled brightly at me.

"So you're the new girl." It wasn't a question. "Interesting. How old are you?"

"Sixteen." I said, feeling incredibly stupid.

"Sixteen…" She repeated as though it were a fascinating word. Then she clapped her hands and said briskly, "It's chapel time. Change into the uniform quick and then get down there as fast as your legs can carry you. I don't want my charge getting in trouble on her first day here."

"That's okay," I said, my temper flared, "You don't have to baby-sit me."

"My, my. Don't get mad, Ina." She said and I could tell that she was trying to get a rise out of me. _Well good luck with that, sweetheart. _I thought cruelly.

"I know where the dining room is, I can get there by myself. You don't need to wait for me."

Pippa nodded, her hair flying with the movement of her head, and then walked to the door and nearly bolted through it.

"Thanks for the welcome." I said, and went to my closet to find the uniform, wishing I wasn't so ignorant and my mother wasn't so secretive.


End file.
